I will receive letters from abroad, tender and old, those memories, how are they all,I miss you, how time goes by. We will be others, we will be older, and whenyour mirror finally observes me, I hope at least that it recognizes me, reminds me of who I am now.Those hands, that woman, that winter did not stop raining, but I arrived so late, I hope to know how to compensate you.You are so beautiful, I invite you to a coffee, the afternoon is ours, undress me.Behind the lightning, I always told you, I will pick flowers in your belly.Another man will sleep with you, and he will give name to all your children.Come, come closer to me, let me see you, that other springs have to take you far away from me.You are so beautiful, I invite you to a coffee, the afternoon is ours, undress me.You will listen to me, you will look for me, when I get lost, and the North Star does not signal.The cold mornings in college, you almost always ran with me to the bar,and you made me angry, and you preferred the classroom to my company.Empty bottles on the table, how healthy it is to tear that laugh from you,and now let's change the world, friend, that you have already changed mine.What will I do when I look for you in class, and my echo answers me when I call you,others will come and tell me that you left, that you got tired and has to wait.What will I do when I look for you in class, and my echo answers me when I call you,others will come and tell me that you left, that you got tired and has to wait.What will I do when I look for you in class, and my echo answers me when I call you,others will come and tell me that you left, that you got tired and has to wait.Old songs, old verses that I hope retain some echo,and in the future I hope, comrade brothers, to be a good guy, not to betray you,that the vertigo passes and that in your windows the sun shines every morning.But enough of laments, let's toast that it is the moment that we are all,and there is almost no one missing, that we have to hurry, the night has just begun.Vertigo that the world stops, how short the journey is made to me,you will listen to me, you will look for me when I get lost,and the north star does not signal to fly.www.mooji.org